


A Different World

by Azzandra



Series: Through the Same Places [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3564047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azzandra/pseuds/Azzandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of drabbles set in the "<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3493820/chapters/7676876">Through the Same Places</a>" AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different World

 

 

 

The one thing that went as planned for Fen'Harel that day was that he walked into his quarters and found Rhiannon still waiting there

Looking utterly bored, she was sprawled on a sofa with a platter of grapes. She barely even noticed him until he was across the room already. He sat next to her, drew his arms around her, and buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply.

"How do you get fruit here to taste so good?" she asked, paying him no heed as she popped another grape into her mouth.

"You want to talk about fruit?" he asked, drawing back to look at her.

She returned his look.

"You'd be surprised the kind of things you start seriously thinking about when you're sitting alone in a room waiting for a very long time and bored out of your wits."

He hid his face back in her neck.

"Hard day?" she asked softly.

"I've an inkling you are about to make it harder," he said, kissing where he felt her pulse fluttering under her skin.

She laughed.

"Will I now?" she asked, and then hummed thoughtfully, inspecting the bundle of grapes.

"Unless you mean to ignore me in favor of a plate of fruit," he muttered.

"I don't know, they  _are_  far less likely to make terrible innuendos."

"I will endeavor to follow their example," he said dryly, as he trailed kisses up her neck and along her jaw. Before he could reach her mouth, she ate another grape, and deftly ignored him as she chewed.

"You shouldn't have left me waiting for so long," she said. "I'm afraid the only thing I'm in the mood for now are your delicious grapes."

"I wager I could change your mind," Fen'Harel said. Rhiannon arched an eyebrow at him and swallowed.

"You're free to make the attempt," she replied, sounding almost bored. But there was a smile at the corner of her lips, sly and suggestive.

He rumbled a growl against her neck, nuzzling it. He felt the shakiness of her breath as she inhaled, but she did not otherwise react.

It was only rarely that they could take their time like this, and if she hadn't departed yet, it meant she was not expected anywhere else. He intended to savor her.

One of her hands sank into her hair, cupping the back of her head as fingers stroked her scalp. Her eyes fluttered closed as she relaxed under his ministrations. With his other hand, he popped open the toggles on her tunic. She cracked open an eyelid to look at him for a moment, unimpressed, before eating another grape.

_So_   _that_   _is_   _how_   _it_   _is_   _to_   _be_ , he thought in amusement. He slid a hand inside her tunic and palmed the swell of a breast. He simply held it, thumb stroking against the material of her breast band, just shy of a nipple.

He leaned his forehead against her temple, simply sitting and breathing as his fingers stroked gently--both her scalp and her breast. She waited, eyes closed, her own fingers frozen over the half-finished bundle of grapes. A tiny frown appeared between her brows, even as her body melted into his hands. He could feel her patience begin to fray, now that she was no longer the one doing the teasing.

"Fen'Harel," she said.

"Yes?" he purred in reply.

"Why don't you try one of these?" she asked, and brought one of the grapes to his lips.

He knew what she was trying to do, and he obliged her, catching the tip of her finger and swirling his tongue over the pad as he took the grape. She sighed almost inaudibly; against which part of herself did she imagine his tongue? Swirling around a nipple? Dipping between her thighs?

The thought sent heat shooting through him, making him half-hard and suddenly impatient. If he reached down and pressed into her, would he find her wet? Had she spent this time waiting for him truly bored, or had she imagined ways in which he might make up for his tardiness?

There was a pretty flush high on her cheeks, and it told a far different story from her playfully feigned indifference.

The taste of grapes in his mouth was still fresh and sweet, and he knew he'd think of her the next time he ate one. For now, he wanted to taste  _her_. He took the platter from her hands, placing it on the floor and sliding it away from the sofa.

"I wasn't finished with those," she said primly, but looking more regretful about the absence of his hands than the grapes.

"And I have not even gotten started," he replied, taking her into his arms and tumbling down on the couch with her. 

She giggled, the sound sweet and bubbly, until it cut off into a moan.


End file.
